


Wearing Each Other's Clothes

by natashasbanner



Series: 30 Days of Bruce/Natasha Fluff [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 04:00:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12950844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natashasbanner/pseuds/natashasbanner
Summary: Natasha stole one of Bruce's sweaters, but he doesn't mind.





	Wearing Each Other's Clothes

It was Bruce’s turn to do the laundry again. He remembered this time, a fact he’d pointed out to Natasha smugly  before descending into the basement to start a load. He was absorbed in an old journal article on his phone when the dryer chimed, signalling that the cycle was finished. 

He unloaded the clothes into an empty basket and when he brought it over to the couch Natasha was there waiting for him. 

“Want a hand?” She asked as he sat down beside her. 

“Are you really going to help me this time?” He asked skeptically, recalling the last time she offered assistance and it ended up taking twice as long. 

Natasha rolled her eyes and reached for the basket. She actually folded the first few things she pulled out, but stopped when she took out one of his old sweaters. One he didn’t remember wearing in the last week. 

“I was looking for this,” she said excitedly, quickly pulling the thick material over her head. “It’s still warm,” she said with a happy sigh and Bruce was taken with how content she looked in that moment. 

“Where did you find that?” He asked. He didn’t even remember unpacking the sweater. 

Natasha shrugged and went back to folding. 

“It was in one of your boxes from the tower,” she said quietly after a few minutes. 

Bruce paused at that and stared at her. He knew his floor of the tower had been moved to the facility upstate after Hulk hijacked the quinjet. Bruce had been shocked to find quarters set up for him at the new facility upon his return. But he’d gone through all of the boxes that they’d left untouched and knew that the sweater she was wearing hadn’t been in any of them. 

“No it wasn’t,” he said softly. It was the one they used to keep on the quinjet, the one he left at Barton’s farm all those years ago. 

She ignored him and continued to fold clothes. A faint blush crept up her neck and Bruce reached over to touch her hand. 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he promised, with a small smile. 

Natasha looked up at him then. Her eyes flicked over his face while she bit his lip and Bruce wished he could read minds in that moment. He wanted to know why she was being so hesitant about this. 

She took a deep breath and tossed a few socks back into the basket before she finally answered him. 

“Laura found it a few days after Sokovia.” She paused and let out a short breathy laugh. “You guys left so much stuff behind.”

“I’ll have to apologize the next time I see her,” Bruce said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Natasha shook her head and turned her hand over in his to intertwine their fingers. 

“She asked me to make sure everything made it back safely. I didn’t know what to do with this,” she looked down at the sweater, a soft smile on her lips. 

“So you started to wear it,” Bruce guessed. 

He felt a warmth in his chest a the images it brought to mind. Natasha curled up in her quarters on the base after a long day of whipping the new team into shape or using it to ward off the chill in Clint’s drafty home.

Bruce frowned, wondering if he would have fit into her life then. Would they have been able to end up here if he’d been around after the fight? It was a hypothetical that haunted him, even now. As much as he absolutely despised what had become of him on Sakaar, he knew if he’d been around in the aftermath of Sokovia, they probably would have ended up hating each other. 

The thought made him sick. 

Natasha leaned forward to run her thumb along his brow, smoothing the harsh lines that had crept up on him. 

“Someone had to keep it warm until you got back,” she whispered with another soft laugh.

Bruce ducked his head, feeling his cheeks warm. 

“Did you and Tony flip for it?” he joked. 

Natasha scoffed and playfully shoved his shoulder. He laughed and fell back into the couch cushions dramatically. Her eyes were on him, soft and calculating. She looked at him a lot, he’d noticed. Like her mind was running over the what ifs too. Unlike him she’d lived everyday of their separation, wondering if he’d ever come back and hoping they hadn’t missed their chance. She’d told him as much when all the fighting was over. 

“You can have it back if you want,” she offered, but Bruce saw the way her fingers wrapped protectively around the sleeve. 

He shook his head and sat back up. 

“It looks better on you,” he said with a short chuckle but meant every word. 

Natasha looked pleased and suddenly lurched forward to dig through the laundry basket at their feet. She straightened back up with one of her scarves in her hand. With a sly smile she looped over his head and secured it around his neck. There was a playful glint in her eye when she sat back to admire her work. 

Bruce ran his hand over the soft, blue material and raised an eyebrow at her. 

“What is this?” 

“A fair trade,” she answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Now we’re even.” 

He couldn’t help but smile. “If you say so.” 

The timer for the dryer went off again, cutting into their moment. Bruce frowned and reluctantly stood to unload it again. He dropped the second basket next to the first one and looked at all the clothes they still had left to fold. 

“I’m starting to think I should just do the folding myself,” he teased as he sat back down beside her. 

Natasha smirked and without breaking eye contact, pushed all the clothes they’d folded together onto the floor. She stood from the couch and casually stepped over the pile. 

“‘Have fun,” she called over her shoulder as she sauntered up the stairs. 

Bruce sat there in disbelief. He shook his head and picked up the mess she made with a smile. God, he loved that woman. 


End file.
